


In the Winter Light

by manonlechat



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manonlechat/pseuds/manonlechat
Summary: A collection of Katara x Zuko drabbles, vignettes, and one-shots originally written for the Zutara100 community on LiveJournal.A little bit of Iroh. A lot of achingly sweet fluff.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Crossposting some of my old work. Each chapter is stand-alone; all originally written between 2007-2009 and most before Season Three. Zutara Forever!

_Prompt: Beginnings_   
  


  
That night, after Zuko had finally collapsed upon a bed in the former Earth King's palace, his thoughts had raced so hotly that at first he wondered if his fever had returned. He shifted back and forth on his pillow, wavering between sleep and wakefulness, determination and doubt.

_I betrayed Uncle. Uncle betrayed me._

_I am my father's loyal son. Father doesn't care._

_Azula always lies. Azula promised me._

_I have chosen._

He touched his scar. The skin was thick and stiff, ridged and familiar. _Her fingers had been soft..._

He angrily pushed the thought away.

* * *

Grief had struck them dumb.

Resting on Appa's giant furry head and sheltering Aang in her arms, Katara didn't need to turn her head to know that the others were still awake. She listened to the sound of the Avatar's raspy breath and the surrounding, streaming wind.

Feelings pushed and pulled like salt currents beneath her steady calm. She was relieved—that they had escaped, that Aang had lived; she was afraid—of the new and suddenly uncertain future. There was sorrow when she thought of Iroh. And anger when she thought of his nephew.

_Zuko._

Who she thought had changed.

Who had spoken the words _I'm sorry_.

It was a relief to find, once more, a target at which she could direct her fear and hurt. Zuko was not what he appeared. He was a terrible person. He was the enemy.

_He was tall._

It surprised and unsettled her to think such a thing. Aang shifted and she quickly forgot, lifting her chin into the night sky.


	2. Comfort

_Prompt: Comfort_

Like many girls, Katara had daydreamed about her wedding many times.

She imagined that her future husband would be strong, with sinewy arms, brown skin, and blue eyes. Maybe he would be a warrior like her father. He would definitely _not_ be a sexist slob. He would be kind and gentle and—most of all—he would appreciate her.

She had never, even at her most fanciful, imagined that he would be a prince of the Fire Nation.

Katara peeked at the man standing next to her, dressed in red and holding her hand; took in his pale skin, his smooth hair pinned into a topknot. Zuko's countenance was stern and serious as he focused on the scene through the archway before them. Inside the great icy hall waited benders and friends from all four nations, her father, brother, and her entire tribe; within a few moments she would walk together with him before them all and, not long after that, they would be married.

As recently as an hour ago, she had been eager and excited for this day. She was no longer the girl who had flown away from the South Pole on an epic adventure; she was no longer the flustered young woman, a few months later, disturbed to realize that there was an enemy no longer treating her quite like an enemy and—even worse—she didn't want him to. She was old enough now to be married; old enough to know that she _really_ wanted to be alone with him, without GranGran's watchful chaperoning or Sokka's infuriating, arch expressions. Old enough to understand commitment and that after this day he would be her _husband_ and she would be his wife and one day she might even have this man's (not "this man's," _Zuko's_ ) children.

Katara suddenly, desperately, felt young; frightened. She wanted her mother. Tears spilled down her cheek and she hastily wiped them away.

"Are you okay?" Zuko was looking at her now, his eyes wide with concern, a trace of panic in his voice.

"I'm scared."

"Me too," he said, closing his eyes for a heartbeat.

He squeezed her hand.


	3. Ashes

_Prompt: Ashes_   
  


Each had just saved the other's life; each had nearly been killed doing it. Still panting from the effort, staring into one another's eyes, suddenly everything seemed to click into place and it no longer even mattered that they were soaking wet and standing in front of everyone.

Zuko cautiously placed his hands on her waist; Katara timidly brushed a wet lock of his hair away from his face. They closed their eyes, he bent his head, she lifted hers —

They kissed.

Katara pulled back almost immediately.

"What is it?" he asked, his arms still around her.

"Nothing," she answered hesitantly.

"What's the matter?"

"It's just... your breath. You taste like ashes." Her nose wrinkled.

It took Zuko several full moments to respond.

"Well, you taste like peasant!"

Katara's hands balled into fists.

"What did you just say? Why you selfish, stuck-up jerk!"

"Self-righteous, rustic, waterbending—" he struggled for a word _"—girl!"_

"YAHHHH!" screamed Katara, attacking with all the river water she could bend.

"UNNNHH!" shouted Zuko, forming the largest fireball he had yet mustered.

There was crashing, whooshing, and a lot of steam suddenly in the air.

Sokka managed to shut his jaw. "Should we do something?" he asked.

Toph snorted.

Battle cries and angry grunts were followed by more whooshing and explosions.

"Nope," replied Aang, blissfully smug.


	4. Future

_Prompt: Future_

Katara felt two unseen hands clasp her wrists behind her back.

"I'm looking for someone," whispered a menacing voice above her ear.

She turned her head defiantly in the opposite direction and said nothing.

"Tell me where he is!" the voice insisted. The pressure on her wrists increased just slightly.

"Go jump in the river!" she answered.

From under their bed, there was a muffled giggle.

Zuko smirked triumphantly. He kissed his wife's cheek; his gold eyes dancing.

"AH-HA!" he roared, dropping to the ground and flipping up the bedclothes.

The excited shrieks of a child's laughter filled the room.


	5. Love

_Prompt: Love_

_"Zuko... I won't do anything that might hurt Aang. It would tear our group apart."_

_One moment they had been laughing together, then she had stumbled and his arm had shot out to steady hers and they both suddenly went still and his hand stayed there, resting on top of her forearm, and he had been on the verge of saying things that had been in the backs of their minds for weeks but never spoken—_

_She looked at him sadly and he turned away bitterly, not wanting her pity and too angry to give her his._

Zuko didn't know why the memory of that night came back to him now, at this of all moments. The night over a week ago, after which they'd barely spoken to one another. But it flashed through his mind, even as he watched Azula snarl and smile with spite, her eyes focused on the waterbender, a bolt of blue lightning issuing from her fingers before the airbender's attack could blow her against the palace wall.

Zuko took a deep breath and reached out, spinning Katara behind him and out of the path of the blast with his left hand, releasing her as he lifted his right.

Absorbing the strike through his fingers, he felt the current shuttle along his rigid limb, his _chi_ choppy instead of flowing, he bent the current upward—

And knew that he had failed; had let the lightning pass too close to his heart. The charge seared muscle with unimaginable agony. His mouth contorted in a silent scream, and yet he held fast, willing the lightning to travel up his other arm, away from Katara and their companions.

He watched it strike the opposite wall, his shoulders sagging, his eyes already beginning to dim. The structure crumbled, trapping Azula beneath heavy rubble.

 _Death._ He thought. _Now I die._

He collapsed.

Katara broke the weight of his fall, letting his body pull hers with him to the ground.

"Zuko!" she cried, her eyes large and white.

She crouched at his side and pressed her bending water against his chest, her horror growing as she realized the extent of the damage far beyond her ability to heal.

She tried anyway.

"Zuko, please don't—Please don't die. Please don't!"

Tears began to run down her cheeks as she coaxed and massaged his ruined heart, hearing each breath pass more shallow and strained.

"Don't die—"

"I care. I care about you," she repeated dumbly.

Words had never sounded more inadequate or hopeless.

He gasped and exhaled—a long raspy sigh. His chest went still.

"No..." Katara whispered, then screamed.

She redoubled her efforts, the water swirling and luminous beneath her hands as she frantically moved them across his torso, trying to patch muscle that would not heal, to manipulate blood already growing sluggish.

Aang stood with Sokka and Toph and watched in silence.

She was bent over the body of his rival in _everything_ , including her. He studied Katara's tear-streaked face, listened to her hoarse sobs, and felt his own heart breaking.

This, surely, was asking too much. To save the person who had once hunted them mercilessly across continents. Who had betrayed them before—

Who had taken the one thing he loved more than anyone or anything else in the world.

And he had known—Oh, he had seen it in her eyes!

_Katara, I love you too much. I can't do this._

He looked at her huddled over Zuko's lifeless body, her own wracked with sorrow. He pictured the Katara who had woken him from the iceberg, her eyes shining with wonder, an icy wind rustling the fur of her hood. He saw her, blushing and happy, her hand lightly touching a necklace of flowers. He remembered her face, weary and worn against a cloudy night sky, brimming with relief as she clutched the empty vial of Spirit Water—

And because he loved her, he knew what he had to do.

 _Let her go._ Guru Pathik's words drifted back to him. _Surrender yourself._

 _This_ was the meaning of detachment—detaching yourself out of love for others. Putting them first. Letting go because he loved.

Aang closed his eyes; the Avatar opened his.

The energy of the universe flowed through him, pouring white.

"Katara, stand back," said Sokka, tugging gently on her shoulders.

"No!"

"Stand back!" he insisted, pulling her up.

She started to fight him, and then she saw Aang.

The Avatar thrust his hand forward, water rippling and swelling around it, radiant over the body of the young firebender. The knowledge of countless lifetimes, the skills of a thousand waterbendering masters and healers, flooded into his consciousness. He moved his palm across the damage, soothing scorched flesh and forming new tissue, pulling the blood back through veins and arteries.

Zuko's heart constricted, expanded, and began to beat. He choked; his eyes flying open.

He gasped and pulled in air.

Released from her brother's grip, Katara fell to her knees, her face transformed by disbelief and sudden joy.

Zuko turned his head to look at her.

" _I care..._ " he whispered.

She smiled at Zuko through fresh tears; lifting his hand, she kissed its fingers and cupped it against her face.

Still holding it there, she raised her head. She gazed into the eyes of the boy standing where the Avatar had stood a moment before, love shining through her tears.

"Thank you," she said, with all her heart.

Aang met her gaze and smiled gently.


	6. Children

_Prompt: Children_   
  


"You gave me a lot of trouble over the years, my nephew. Sadness, heartbreak, pain, disappointment, terrible tension headaches—but now, _now_ you have finally redeemed yourself!"

Iroh eagerly accepted the squawking bundle from a proud Katara's arms. He sighed happily.

"I hadn't already?" Zuko asked, incredulous and feeling just a _little_ bit hurt.


	7. Truth

_Prompt: Truth_   
  


"Fire Lord Zuko was NOT my boyfriend!"

The rumor had persisted for three years, exploding when the sovereign's ex-girlfriend married an Earthbending peasant from Omashu.

"I can't believe I'm still answering these questions!" Katara fumed, blue eyes stormy as a hapless fruit vendor inched away.

"They say I grind metal with my teeth." Toph shrugged and bit into her peach. "Why is the idea repulsive?"

"Because. _Zuko._ Zuko and me." Katara laughed. "Can you imagine anything more ridiculous?"

Toph chewed silently.

"It would never work."

Toph swallowed.

"Right?" asked the waterbender in a small, troubled voice.

Toph took another bite.


	8. Peace

_Prompt: Peace_   
  


As he stood appraising the new Fire Lord, Hakoda wondered for the third or fourth time if he and his men had walked into a trap.

The Avatar's message had raised more questions than it had provided answers. Apparently, there had been some sort of a battle, and some sort of a coup, and the only thing that seemed perfectly clear was that the previous Fire Lord Ozai was no longer alive.

And, sure enough, the short heavyset man standing before Hakoda wore the unmistakable emblem of the Fire Nation's leadership—a stylized golden flame, set erect on a rough topknot of gray hair. The new leader's beard was grizzled and unkempt and, despite the man's still considerable girth, there was a looseness in the skin of his cheeks that suggested a recent period of hunger and hardship.

Four other firebenders, comprising the remainder of their delegation, stood in a semicircle behind him. Three were older men, their stiff upright bearing revealing their military background as clearly as the insignia on their uniforms. The fourth was a slender figure wearing well-made armor that bore signs of recent scorching. Despite the armor and helmet, Hakoda's keen eyes could tell the fourth man was very young, not much older than his own teenaged son. The only one smiling among them was the Fire Lord himself.

"Fire Lord Iroh," Hakoda finally acknowledged, his attention shifting back to the man at their center. His greeting was civil but to the point.

"You will have to excuse my appearance," Iroh said, his voice open and congenial enough with—maybe?—a subtle touch of wryness. "You see, I only got out of prison a few hours ago. It was not a very agreeable experience, although I have not had this much extra room in my clothes since I was a man of thirty!"

The Fire Lord beamed and held out his threadbare and dirty smock several inches past his torso to illustrate. 

Concealing his surprise, Hakoda couldn't help but ask himself again—now for the fifth or sixth time—if this could be a trap. He heard Bato angrily suck air through his teeth behind him and knew that his friend also suspected they were being toyed with—or worse. But Hakoda had experienced enough of the world to detect an unmistakable toughness beneath the pleasant and humble demeanor, an easy confidence that suggested Iroh was no stranger to authority.

It would be unwise to underestimate him.

"The rest of the Water Tribes' and Earth Kingdom's delegations have landed at the dock and will be here shortly," Hakoda said, ignoring Iroh's attempt at humor. He raised an eyebrow. "I must admit that we were very surprised to receive word indicating you wished to surrender."

"Oh, I am not surrendering," Iroh corrected, in the same easy and even tone. The men behind Hakoda reached for their weapons. The firebenders tensed and Hakoda held up his hand to steady his companions.

Iroh continued as if he hadn't noticed.

"I am _not_ surrendering, but as Fire Lord I have ordered all our forces to cease hostilities immediately." Earnestness had replaced the previous humor in his tone. "I want what is best for the Fire Nation—and best for the people of every element. I want an immediate end to this war."

He lifted his hands, palms upward, and continued.

"We have all suffered loss and heartache."

The men's eyes met, and for a moment Hakoda recognized a welling of sadness, memories of an old grief, in Iroh's face.

Hakoda was unmoved. He, too, understood the meaning of grief.

"I humbly beg forgiveness for the wrongs my people have committed against yours." Iroh clasped his hands together and pressed them against his chest. Raising his head, an unvarnished plea evident beneath the surface of his words, he finished—"The Fire Nation will atone for those wrongs in whatever ways we can and, together, we must embark upon a path to peace."

Dull pain tugged at Hakoda's heart. He pictured the whiteness of his wife's smile, remembered the smoothness of her hair through his fingers. He closed his eyes, allowing the anger within him to crest, break, and ebb. He recalled the sound of her laughter. He thought of the children in his village who hadn't laughed nearly as much as they deserved these past years. He finally nodded, opening his eyes to meet those of the Fire Lord.

"As you say, there has been much loss and suffering. It will not be a simple thing for any of our people to forgive or forget. This is a rocky path we undertake—peace will not be easy."

Iroh nodded respectfully. His shoulders sagged and he seemed suddenly older, more worn. Hakoda heard the rest of his coalition's benders and representatives finally beginning to approach.

"Zuko!" 

"Katara!"

Hakoda barely had time to process, or to recognize the blur that was his own daughter, until she had run past him and practically leapt into the arms of the young firebender behind Iroh, who had thrown off his helmet and was lifting her and spinning her around before she got both arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss.

His eyes wide in their sockets, Hakoda felt an arm fall across his shoulders.

"Maybe, it won't be as hard as we think," said Iroh quietly, an affectionate smile on his lips.


	9. Blanket

_Prompt: Blanket_

"I used to play in this cave when I was younger. I'm so happy you came out here to visit it with me." Katara grinned and wrapped both arms around Zuko's middle.

The afternoon excursion was one of the things he was still willing to do for her, despite the frostbite he had suffered on the second day of his visit to the South Pole, despite two weeks of relentless daily ribbing from Sokka, despite the nasty intestinal reaction he discovered he had to tiger-seal blubber, despite the fact her relatives never _ever_ seemed to give them a moment's privacy alone together. Katara couldn't help but admire his shivering, single-minded determination to keep from losing his temper.

"Yes, Katara, it's a beautiful cave," he answered through chattering teeth, peering inside and giving it a cursory, approving glance. "I'm so happy that you shared it with me." He kissed her cheek and took her hand. "Now," he said with considerable enthusiasm, "let's get back to your village."

Visibly upbeat by the prospect, he turned back in the direction they'd trekked.

"Wait, look at the sky!" Katara said, digging her heels into the snow and yanking him back. "I can't believe it's gotten so late! We'll never make it back to the village before nightfall. We'll have to spend the night here."

Zuko looked horrified.

"But it's _cold_ out here."

"Well, we can't travel at night, so we're just going to have to make the best of it," she answered with firm finality and cheer.

"I guess I can start a fire," he said, doubtfully eyeing the limiting kindling material in their two excursion packs.

"That's perfect. You do that, while I lay out dinner."

"You brought dinner?"

"Oh, you know," she said, blushing. "Just in case."

Katara ignored his surprise and turned around, busying herself with laying out a home-made, seal-free, dinner for two. She sprinkled fireflakes on top. She pinched her cheeks, bit her lips, and ran her fingers through the hair about her face.

Smiling to herself, she turned back and found Zuko huddled miserably next to a small crackling fire and mouth of the cave. Katara turned to the pack next to him and began to root around.

"Zuko," she asked, with a growing, dreadful suspicion. "What did you do with the blanket that I brought?"

"I burned it," he answered. He blew steam into his hands and rubbed them together.

"You WHAT?" she yelped, staring with despair at the crackling, flaming heap.

"I burned it!" he answered again. "You only brought one! How did you expect us both to stay warm if I didn't build the fire high enough?!"

Katara glared at him.

Zuko thought.

"Oh," he said, sheepishly. " _Oh_..."


	10. Two of a Kind

_Prompt: Two of a Kind_

"What kind of a waterbender doesn't know how to swim?"

"I'm from the South Pole, remember? Ice and snow? Freezing temperatures? It's not exactly the type of ocean you want to dive right into." Katara spat salt water out of her mouth and struggled to float.

"No fair using bending!" Zuko warned.

"I am NOT—" _Spurt. Gasp._ "USING—" _Spurt._ "BENDING."

He steadied her torso and tilted her sideways.

"Kick your legs."

Katara dunked her head under the waves and kicked her legs furiously.

Zuko grinned and ducked, rearing his head away from her splashing.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she accused him as she emerged and righted herself, her eyes stinging and blurry. She blinked, coughed, and sputtered on more seawater.

"Here. Let's just try drifting for a while." He crossed his arms over her middle and pulled her against his chest. "Like this. Just relax."

_Relax._

She crossed her arms over his and tried. It did feel nice like this—drifting up and down with the waves—surrounded on all sides by her element. She licked the salt off her lips and focused on the sensation of water, its gentle, giving resistance. It felt good to circle her foot through it, good to sigh against the drone and murmur of the surf, good to think of the horizon stretching on and on, miles and miles, out to sea.

It felt good to be here, being held by a firebender.

"Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know how to make a fire without firebending?"

"Nope." He gripped her tighter. "Will you show me?"

"Once we get back to the beach."

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Not at all," she answered, closing her eyes.

Through her lids, the Fire Nation's summer sun shone warm and red.


	11. Siblings

_Prompt: Siblings_

Sokka was the second-to-the-last to begin trusting Zuko, much to Katara's tight-lipped displeasure.

"Man, I never thought I'd say this, but after that—after saving our skins and finding us a delicious, meat-filled meal—Zuko, you are like family!"

The Fire Nation's former crown prince was caught completely off guard as Sokka—mouth, left arm, and right hand stuffed full of stolen roast pork-mutton—pulled him into a fierce, teary-eyed hug.

Katara still refused to trust the firebender, in spite of—or perhaps because of—another emotion that had begun to creep into the edges of her awareness, an emotion she knew instinctually was far more dangerous.

She wanted to be near him and found herself avoiding him. She was peevish and cross in his presence but followed every morning, from the corner of her eye, each of his movements as he carefully instructed Aang in firebending. She resented the seriousness with which he handled his tasks, coupling a resolve that had always been there with a new patience he seemed to have discovered. She tried not to imagine there was a reason they so often found themselves alone together: she practicing her waterbending by the river as he washed his shirt to dry under the mid-afternoon sun or him awake in the evening after the others had gone to sleep, wordlessly watching the summer meteors as she used waterbending again to clean their dinner things in the flickering glow of their camp fire. 

Still, Zuko had never expressed anything except polite disinterestedness in her, and she clung fast to that last assurance as her brother let down his guard and another protection fell.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew my family," Zuko answered, disentangling himself from Sokka's grateful arms. His voice was gruff but a pink, pleased tinge colored his cheeks.

"But they probably don't consider me family anymore," he continued, more to himself. He sounded bitter and regretful and Katara wondered who it was he thought of—the sister and father who would execute him if he was captured, or the uncle he had been forced to leave behind.

An uncomfortable pause followed. Zuko looked embarrassed and irritated with himself. He collected Aang's empty rice bowl and deposited it with the other used dishes.

"You can think of us as your new family," Aang offered, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, we'll be like your brothers," Toph said, punching Aang and Sokka on their arms. Sokka winced and choked on a mouthful of meat.

"That's right," her brother said, recovering partially and gesturing in Katara's direction. "And think of Katara as your sister!"

Zuko glanced at her and—

An almost imperceptible hesitation that Katara recognized because her breath, too, had caught in her throat—

"Right. My sister," Zuko repeated, shrugging and laughing weakly.

He was a lousy liar.

Zuko wouldn't look at her now.

And Katara felt the blood throbbing in her chest and knew that she was lost; she was undone. Her heart twisted with both thrill and anguish because now, gazing at Aang's untroubled serene face, she knew without a doubt that heartbreak and grief were coming for them, as swift and sure as the morning sun.


End file.
